


Baby It's Cold Outside

by Defective_Avian



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Brief suicidal thoughts, Civilian Jason Todd, Civilian Tim Drake, Dick is Robin, Eventual Fluff, Frostbite, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, I Don't Think He or Bruce Are in This Though, Jason Jumps to Some Unpalatable Concluisions, Jason is Propositioned, Like One Sentence though, Medical Inaccuracies, Misunderstandings, Sickfic, Snow, Talks of prostitution, This is a Jason & Tim Fic, This isn't as dark as it sounds, also SWEAR WORDS, but nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28252443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defective_Avian/pseuds/Defective_Avian
Summary: "Tim turned to leave, and nearly fell over when a faint hacking sound made him want to jump out of his skin.Spinning around had him coming face to face, with what he had previously assumed was a snow covered trash bag or something, shaking with the force of the sickly coughs it was generating.Something- no, SOMEONE was alive under the mound of snow!"OrTim goes out to photograph Batman & Robin, and comes home with a frozen stranger instead.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 95
Kudos: 520
Collections: TimDrake works you should read





	1. Tim Meets Knock-Off Frosty the Snowman, Takes Him Home, and Precedes to Piss Him Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [envysparkler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/envysparkler/gifts), [iselsis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iselsis/gifts).



> OKAY. So I finally experienced one of those rare moments, where my motivation to write AND free time to write actually lined up.
> 
> And oh boy!
> 
> What started out as a small hurt/comfort fic about Jason getting Hypothermia, evolved into whatever THIS is.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to envysparkler and iselsis who post a lot of amazing works, and always kindly reply to my comments. (Or at least envy does, iselsis likes to rag on me for the ostrich thing, but they will not break me!)
> 
> I have decided to combine together their two favorite concepts, them being, Tim & Jason being Bros and Bruce rescuing/adopting kids, but neglecting to tell them this ahead of time, so they mistakenly assume they have been kidnapped.
> 
> The results of this, being the pure insanity of: Tim rescuing Jason, but neglecting to tell him this ahead of time, so he mistakenly assume he's been kidnapped. Angst & hilarity ensue.
> 
> I don't know the chapter count, but I'd say 2 or 3 chapters is a good guess. If you find any mistakes feel free to comment down below, and big thanks to my friend Just_Another_Angsty_Geek for helping me edit.
> 
> ALSO: I wrote this a few days ago, and just haven't gotten around to posting it. And then I saw today that iselsis, one of the people I WROTE this for, posted a fic with basically the same core concept. I haven't read it yet, but it looks like the fics have different enough (I hope) executions. So when you get this iselsis. This was a complete COINCIDENCE, and I didn't plagiarize your work, to re-gift it back to you.
> 
> LMAO

If there had been anyone there to ask Jason how he felt an hour ago; well, he probably would have told them to fuck off, but eventually, he might have concede to the fact that he felt a little cold. The same couldn’t be said for Jason now, because in order to feel cold, you had to be able to feel anything at all, and Jason had long since lost any sensation in his frozen limbs.

Jason tried to curl into a tighter ball, but his limbs were stiff, and the worn fabric of his sweatshirt, was doing nothing for him in the way of insulation.

He looked out into the snow drifting peacefully into the alley, and numbly considered the possibility of, after everything, succumbing to hypothermia and never leaving this alley alive again.

A violent shiver coursed through him, but Jason wasn’t sure if it was from his thoughts, or the flurry of snow that the wind had just blown into his face, from where he was sheltering under the overhang.

For a moment, Jason regretted not taking that man up on his offer; of breaking the promise he had made to himself at the start of this, and whoring himself out to the man, if only to sleep in a warm bed for one more night.

Jason felt bile crawling up his throat at the thought, and shook his head to clear that line of thinking, resulting in the dusting of snow that covered his head, to slip down his neck in an icy stream.

Jason couldn’t do it. It was stupid, but the thought made Jason’s skin crawl. Of having the first real human touch, that wasn’t a blow since his mother died, come from him being used as nothing more than a warm hole to be fucked. _Well, not very warm anymore._ He thought to himself in bitter humor, but it doesn’t make a difference. He couldn’t do it. It would break him. More than he already had been anyway.

Jason gripped his hands together, blowing into them with a small cloud coming out of his mouth. Like cigarette smoke. A cigarette would be real welcome right about now. Something he could use to warm his hands. His cold cracked hands.

The memory of that same chill radiating from his mother’s hands the last time he had held them makes warmth pool in his eyes, and slide down his cheeks,  adorning them with icy streaks.

It was so cold.

He could feel a cough build in his diaphragm, and knew he was screwed, even before he began to cough.

And cough.

His chest was on fire, his hands ached, his throat was raw, the snow had built up on his knees, and he was tired.

Alone.

Jason leaned back, sniffing and trying to stop his dripping nose. He gave up, and closed his eyes. He was very tired.

Jason could sleep. Really sleep, for the first time in awhile. He didn’t care about what people could do to him if they found him vulnerable like this,  not anymore . In a few hours,  no one would be able to hurt him again, anyway.

~~~

If Tim never heard the names Batman and Robin again, it would be to soon.

...Okay, that was a lie, but Goddamnit,  he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the dynamic duo all night, and all he’d gotten was a malfunctioning camera for his troubles. Cause  cameras  apparently didn’t like being in  the bitter cold  for extended periods of time, who knew?

Conceding defeat, Tim shivered as he packed his camera into it’s water-resistant case, (water-resistant, not water-proof; regardless of what the product description had said, nothing was _truly_ water-proof.) and made his way over  to the side of the building he thought housed the fire escape. 

He peered over the building’s edge, trying to spot the rusted metal structure, all while trying to put on his gloves with numb hands. He had brought out his digital camera tonight, not taking into consideration, that he would have to remove his gloves to use it.

Trying to peer through the darkness, his frozen fingers managed to drop one of his gloves off the edge before he could catch it. Tim could only watch forlornly, as it drifted into the snow covered alley below.

_Shit._

Climbing down a fire escape with only one glove would not be fun.

Also, he had been wrong, the fire escape was not on this side.

Grumbling Tim made his way to the other side, where he saw another alley, this one sporting a fire escape.

On the way down, Tim pondered whether it was even worth it to trudge to the  other side of the building to get his glove, but, he conceded,  being cold and tired, wasn’t a good excuse to be wasteful, especially not here, where people had never gotten to have that luxury.

It took about twenty minutes of trudging, with the snow having built up since the time he’d come out earlier that night, and Tim was puffing by the time, he reached the alley. His glove was there and, Tim groaned, had been half buried in snow.

That would not be fun.

Cursing his clumsiness, he made his way over to his glove and put on the wet fabric.

Tim turned to leave, and nearly fell over when a faint hacking sound made him want to jump out of his skin.

Spinning around had him coming face to face, with what he had previously assumed was a snow covered trash bag or something, shaking with the force of the sickly coughs  it was generating.

Something- no, SOMEONE was alive under the mound of snow!

Tim immediately rushed over to them, but stopped short of touching them. This was Gotham after all. There was no way of knowing if the person under the snow was friendly, and wouldn’t just try to gut Tim for his trouble. This could all be a trick, or a trap.

But Tim couldn’t  just  leave them here, never having known if he had avoided a trap, …...or left an innocent person to freeze.

Taking a deep breath, he used his glove to remove some of the snow covering what he presumed was the head, revealing a patch of wet black curls, plastered to a pale forehead.

Tim carefully felt around, and was able to lift a snow covered face from the drift.

From the ir hair, Tim would have placed them as a boy, but it was still long enoug h to be a girl’s. While it was against the dress code at Tim’s school, Tim had seen hair and styles of all types on different people, in his tenure of being a resident of Gotham. It was also not exactly rare to see street kids  cross dressing , in order to fend off unwanted attention.

It didn’t really matter to Tim what they were anyway, because on e  thing was painfully obvious. They were young. Around Tim’s age, but definitely not someone that was old enough to have moved out yet. Which pointed to them being a street kid. 

They could still try to hurt Tim if they wanted to, but Tim, unlike his peers, knew  that someone being desperate didn’t mean that they were  a bad person , and the ones that were, well, they had more of a reason to be than the bullies he had seen in Gotham’s upper crust.

Batman and Robin rescued everyone, because everyone was worth saving, and watching them had taught Tim that lesson.

After a few minutes of trying to wake the other kid up, to no success,  Tim felt around in the sno w , till he could stick his hands under their armpits, and hoisted them out of the  drift , falling backwards in the process. The kid groaned softly, and let out another string of coughs.

Ignoring the voice in his head, reminding him, that if what the kid had was contagious, then them coughing in Tim’s face was a sure way to catch it, he lifted the kid up, and slung his arm over his shoulder; like he’d seen Robin do when he’d rescued that woman from th e apartment that had caught on fire last  Tuesday, and awkwardly made his way to the mouth of the alley.

By the time they reached the opening, Tim’s arms and back were on fire, and he came to the realization that he had no clue what to do next. 

Though they were thin, the kid was still heavy, which ruled out walking anywhere far. The best course of action would be Dr. Thompkin’s Clinic, which was a free clinic in Crime Alley, that Tim had witnessed Batman directing people to a few times. 

The only problem was,  Tim wasn’t  sure he’d be able to find it. Gotham could become a maze if you didn’t know where you were, filled with dangers lurking in every shadow, and Tim didn’t have Batman or Robin to hear his cries for help. 

So that was out of the question, but the longer he stood here trying to figure out what to do, the longer his companion was going to be out in the cold.

Tim began to move toward main Gotham, where he could hopefully flag down a taxi to take them somewhere,  taking short breaks when he felt like he was about to keel over.

He could bring them to the hospital. It’s not like they could just refuse to treat them, and even if they did, Tim had his Debit card. He could pay. Although,  two underage kids showing up at a hospital, one unconscious, and the other carrying them along with a professional camera, would  _probably_ raise some questions, even in Gotham. 

They’d definitely call Tim’s parents, who might get in trouble for not knowing their son was running around Gotham following Batman, not to mention Tim, who would _definitely_ be in trouble, and might be forced to explain why he was even out, which might lead to them finding his pictures, which could lead to someone finding out Batman’s identity-

Tim looked back at the other boy;  he was probably a boy, his chest was leaning into Tim’s shoulder, and since it felt pretty flat, his first assumption was probably right. Who’s teeth were chattering, despite the fact that he had yet to open his eyes.

It probably would be a good idea to get him checked over, although  there might be a reason that the boy was outside. 

If the other boy  _had_ done something illegal, then, Tim would be handing him over to the authorities. If he hadn’t, no sane person wouldn’t take shelter if they had one, so the possibility of him being released from the hospital and being handed over to a guardian or system that he’d run from in the first place was a high one.

Tim highly doubted that the boy was just lost. He looked like a Crime Alley kid, and Tim knew you didn’t survive  living  there, if you couldn’t navigate it.

Tim reached a crossroads, and after about twenty minutes of waiting was able to flag down a cab.

It pulled to a stop, and Tim helped his companion inside, earning them a weird look from the cabby, but nothing more.

“Where you headed?”

“Uh…” Tim still hadn’t decided, but he  ended up  giv ing his home address. After all, bring ing a stranger to your house never ended badly.

As the cabby (Phil Mcgraw,  Tim read off his identification card, with a picture of a bald man with a mustache, matching the cabby up front) headed toward the specified address, Tim’s attention fell back on his companion. 

In the pale light from the taxi, he looked even worse. He was shivering violently, and his skin had an eerie blue tinge to it. His fingers, nose, cheeks, and ears  were red, but seemed to be turning white, and every few minutes a string of coughs made his chest heave. Tim took a hold of one hand, and it was freezing.

After he finished his examination.  Tim quickly took off his jacket, gloves, and hat, and did his best to bundle him up. 

He didn’t look much better.

Maybe they _should_ go to the hospital, consequences for either of them be damned. But before Tim could make that decision, the taxi pulled to a stop in front of Tim’s driveway. 

“Here.” Phil said, breaking the silence.

Tim took out his small stash of bills.

“I’ll give ya an extra five, if you help me carry my friend to  the  door.”

“Make it a twenty and we gotta deal.”

It was scummy of him, but Tim was desperate, so he forked over the cash.

They both got out, and, with the man’s help, they were able to get him over to the door.

“Thanks.”

The man ignored him, and trudged through the snow, back to his cab.

Tim didn’t watch him go, instead dragging the other boy into the foyer, and shutting the door.

_Well, what now?_

His number one priority was to get the boy somewhere warm. Tim was to tired to drag the unconscious body upstairs, so he settled with the small guest room on the ground floor.

Leaning him against the bed frame, Tim sought out every blanket he could find in the house. He also turned up the heat as high as he dared, not wanting to blow something up. Returning to the guest room, he set the blankets up on the bed, till it looked like the messy nest of a giant bird.

Turning back to the rooms other occupant, Tim realized, uncomfortably, that leaving him in wet clothes would  probably prevent  him from getting warm.

_Oh, god._

Tim first removed his wet gear from the boy, and then the boy’s ratty sweatshirt that was almost soaked through  along with his wet shoes and socks . Leaving him in  a damp, dirty,  t-shirt, and what looked like two pairs of jeans worn on top of one another. He was shivering more violently now.

Tim felt the t-shirt, and determined it was also wet.  The jeans on top were wet too, but hopefully the other pair didn’t need to be taken off. Waking up in different pants than you fell asleep in, would probably make anyone panic.

“I’m just gonna take your shirt off okay? Cause it’s really wet. That alright?”

No answer.

God, Tim felt like such a pervert.

Quickly, but gently, Tim lifted the shirt over his head and threw it to the side.

Tim felt again, just to be sure, and yep the top pair of jeans were wet. At least he was wearing t wo pairs. Which was admittedly, a little weird, but  he  guess ed it beat having to carry your other pair of jeans everywhere.

“Um, okay, so your pants are kinda wet. Like,  _really_ wet, so I’m gonna help you take them off…. Unless you can do it yourself?” Tim asked hopefully. 

Silence.

“I’ll get you another pair after, and a shirt too, okay?”

Tim stalled, hoping the other boy would wake up, but no such luck.

Praying he wasn’t about to get punched for his troubles, Tim unbuttoned the top jeans and began the task, of trying to shimmy wet denim down slightly less wet denim.

Which of course, Tim’s friend decided was the perfect time to start trying to hack out his own lungs again.

Tim’s head jerked up so fast, he got a crick in his neck, cause that was exactly what he need ed . Having the stranger he  ~~ kidnapped ~~ RESCUED, wake up shirtless, and with someone pulling down his pants.

The coughing ebbed off, with a groan, until the house was silent once again.

After about 5 minutes Tim finally removed the jeans and threw them off to the side, patting the pair that was below them, praying they were just a little damp. Everything seemed fine except for the knees. Tim drew the line at feeling the seat of his pants, that would be to weird, so if it was wet, it was gonna stay wet, till the other boy changed.

Feeling satisfied Tim sat up, about to help his new friend into bed, when he made eye contact  with a pair of wide blue eyes, staring at him.

_BECAUSE OF COURSE THE FUCKER HAD TO WAKE UP WITH US IN THE MOST COMPROMISING POSITION IMAGINABLE!!!!!_

They stared at each other in shocked silence for a moment, before Tim, panicking, nearly shouted in the other’s face.

“HI! My name’s Tim! And I swear I can explain!”

_Well, fuck._


	2. There Should be an Olympic Metal, for Jumping to Conclusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my Beta Just_Another_Angsty_Geek.

Well, it had happened.

His metaphorical clock had run out at last.

But judging by the fact his skin felt like it was burning, life had apparently decided to send him off with a final ‘fuck you’, and had sent him straight to HELL.

Because of course.

If I open my eyes to see the ghost of Willis I’m dunking my head in lava.

The feeling of something moving against his leg caused him to instinctively open his eyes, but instead of fire and the souls of the damned his gaze fell upon a kid, who was working intently on something.

It took a minute for Jason to comprehend what was happening, but it became pretty obvious when the kid threw his jeans off to the side.

Jason could only stare in shock, mind still rebooting, as the little shrimp of a kid, quickly patted down his legs.

The boy, apparently satisfied, looked up and froze when he saw Jason was awake.

Before Jason could open his mouth, or move, or do SOMETHING, the boy was spouting off a mile a minute, nearly shouting, obviously panicking.

“HI! My name’s Tim! And I swear I can explain!”

The kid- Tim, continued to jabber, but Jason had stopped paying attention, instead taking the chance to observe his surroundings, and take stock of possible escape routes.

He was sitting on what must be carpet, though Jason had personally never been privy to carpet that felt this soft. He was leaned up against a thick wooden bed frame, on closer inspection, which seemed to be sporting enough blankets for a small army, the sight of which, made Jason shiver, despite the fact his skin felt way to hot. There was a door leading out into a hallway, and another door that was probably a closet. A glance back showed a window, with flakes of snow falling lazily onto the ever growing banks outside.

This information was insignificant in the face of two alarming facts.

1\. Jason was in a strange place with no recollection of how he had gotten there.

And 

2\. This strange child had been stripping him while he was unconscious!

Jason socked him in the jaw.

Or, at least he tried to.

The second he moved, a huge wave of vertigo hit him like a freight train, and the effect was more like slapping the side of the kid’s face with his fist.

Jason bent over as a coughing fit racked his body.

It had gotten the desired effect though, and got the kid away from him, before he could strip him further.

The boy had finally shut up, and was staring wide eyed at Jason, as he attempted to support his weight with the bed frame.

Jason’s tongue was like a lump of mashed potatoes, but he was able to mutter a hoarse “What the fuck are you doin’!?….”.

After a moment of stuttering, the kid finally squeaked.

“I-I was getting you out of those wet clothes, to get you some dry ones.”

“Why am I here though?”

“I, uh, found you?

His voice rose up at the end, making it sound like a question. That did not do anything for Jason’s nerves.

“Again, doesn’t answer my question! Why did ya bring me here?”

“…..You were cold?”

The boy sounded like he thought the answer was obvious and was confused why Jason would think otherwise.

Another alarm bell rang in Jason’s head. The few kind souls in the Bowery would know that that wasn’t a normal response. Help wasn’t expected in the Bowery, it was something you stumbled upon, and decided whether to accept or pass. Even kind, old, grandmas knew this.

This wasn’t a fellow East Ender.

So, the kid was either telling the truth and this was a cliché Christmas movie, where he had been rescued by some kind soul, and would live happily ever after….

Or

…..he had fallen asleep in a dingy alleyway, and had let his dumb ass be trafficked.

Although….

Jason pinched himself.

Nope, this wasn’t a dream, he had mostly definitely been trafficked.

Jason felt a surge of panic rush through him, but the kid, whether a captor or fellow victim yet to be decided, had started talking again.

“…...so I decided against bringing you to the hospital, and brought you here instead! We should probably still call a doctor though, but you’re safe for now, I turned up the heat, and I got you all the blankets I could find. I’ll get you some new clothes, although they might be a little small, but at least they’ll be dry right?”

The kid, Whats-His-Name- Tim, was smiling nervously at him.

Jason felt himself tense.

This Tim, said he was safe, so that was a point in favor of kidnapper. Although he was young, so it was just as likely he was either brainwashed or being forced to lie, and if so, Jason felt a surge of sympathy for the little fella.

Either way, he had to get out of here, and if the kid WAS a victim, Jason would have to take him with him.

Jason had done a lot of things to survive, but abandoning an innocent kid, to be used for who knows what, was not going to be one of them.

Jason tamped down his panic, as best he could.

This wasn’t something he could fight his way out of.

He needed to be smart.

Time was of the essence, but Jason currently had no knowledge of where he was, the kid though, probably did. 

The question was, would or could he tell Jason?

He was gonna have to find that out for himself.

~~~

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.

Tim rubbed the side of his face and looked up at the boy he had found frozen in the snow.

He was barely standing, legs shaking and hands gripping tightly onto the bedpost. In the throws of yet another coughing fit.

When his coughs petered out, Tim’s friend assailant did his best to glare at Tim, seeming to loom despite his mere 2 inches he had on him, and the fact his ribs could be easily counted on his pale torso.

Despite himself, Tim inched back a bit.

After a few seconds of struggle, a shaky, hoarse voice that resembled Tim’s late grandfather’s came out of the mouth of the prepubescent boy in front of him.  
“What the fuck are you doin’!?….”.

Pulse thumping, Tim managed a response.

“I-I was getting you out of those wet clothes, to get you some dry ones.”

Evidently, Tim’s friend was not happy with that response.

“Why am I here though?”

“I, uh, found you?

His voice rose up at the end, making it sound like a question. 

The boy’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“Again, doesn’t answer my question! Why did ya bring me here?”

“…..You were cold?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

The other boy stared at him, backing up a step. Mind seeming to be racing, despite the fact that he was still having trouble standing up straight.

Suddenly the other boy grabbed his own forearm, and pinched it hard.

Tim could only stare in bewilderment, as he began to obviously panic. Maybe Tim should check him for a concussion? 

It would probably be best to explain himself though, before his friend had a panic attack.

“I should probably explain myself.

So I’m Tim, and we’re currently at my house in one of the guestrooms.

I was… uh…”

Quick! What’s a normal reason for a nine year old to be wandering around the worst parts of Gotham at night?!

“Searching for my dog…”

I don’t have a dog, what am I saying?

“and, I happened to stumble across you out in the cold, and you looked kinda sick, so I wanted to bring you to a hospital, but then I figured, you would have probably gone on your own if you wanted to, so you might not want to, so, I, uh, ……so I decided against bringing you to the hospital, and brought you here instead! We should probably still call a doctor though, but you’re safe for now, I turned up the heat, and I got you all the blankets I could find. I’ll get you some new clothes, although they might be a little small, but at least they’ll be dry right?”

Tim smiled nervously, hoping that no one would notice he had omitted a few major details.

Judging by the increasingly horrified expression being directed at him, he wasn’t counting on it.

The other boy’s jaw was tense, as was the rest of his body, he seemed to be examining Tim, probably deciding whether to attack him or not for bringing him to his house while he was unconscious. 

And taking his clothes off.

When said like that, it sounded bad, but context was important!

He would have probably died otherwise, so Tim didn’t think the other boy had the right to complain.

After a moment of very uncomfortable silence. Tim’s companion seemed to compose himself, shooting Tim a tight smile. One that in no way reached his eyes.

He held out a hand to Tim.

“Well, uh, thanks for that, I guess, I’m…. Peter.”

Tim stared dumbfounded at the hand in front of him, then, when it was about to be retracted, grabbed it and hoisted himself up.

“Tim.” He replied, feeling his face heat up when he realized this was the third or fourth time he had told him.

Damn, he probably thinks I’m pretty full of myself.

Tim felt a tug, and, looking down, he realized he was still grasping Peter’s hand. Peter pulled again, a little harder this time.

Tim let him go.

“So uh, ya wouldn’t happen to know where we are…… wouldja?” Peter’s eyes darted nervously around the room, then back to Tim.

“We're at my house.” He said simply

Peter’s smile grew more strained.

“...And where would that be?”

“Bristol.”

“BRISTO-” An abrupt coughing fit cut off his reaction, and he jerkily sank to his knees, head ducked against his heaving chest.

Tim could only stare, frozen.

Peter raised his head, face red, and with tears in the corners of his eyes. He remained on his knees.

“Did- did you say Bristol?”

“Yeah...” Tim fidgeted nervously, “is that a problem?”

The boy across from him studied him, eyes roving across Tim’s face, and locking on to his fidgeting hands.

His hands stilled.

“No, I was just surprised. I haven’t had a reason to really visit Bristol before.”

“Ya, I figured.”

Tim flinched, only realizing after he’d said it, how offensive that was to say.

Peter’s mouth twitched downwards, eyebrows furrowing, before he schooled his features into a blank mask.

“If you live in Bristol, why were you in the Bowery?”

“I was looking for my dog.”

That earned him a look.

“So, your parents brought you to look for your dog in the Bowery? At night? And you happened to find me, and your parents, what, just brought me here?” Peter looked around. “Where are they?”

“My parents didn’t bring me, they’re not even here.”

Peter gave him a disbelieving look.

“You’re here alone?”

“Uh…, yeah?”

Should I have told him that?

Peter’s eyes were narrowing by the minute.

“Isn’t it a little dangerous to be here all by yourself?”

“I can take care of myself!” Tim replied indignantly “Plus I have my dog to protect me.”

“So you found the dog?”

“Yes!”

Peter looked around, then back at Tim.

Shit

“Where are they?”

“Outside.”

Peter looked slightly alarmed, glancing behind him at the flurry.

“Outside? Your telling me you left a dog out in this weather?”

“The dog’s dead!”

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck

Peter’s head snapped back to him.

Tim quickly looked down. Putting on the air of a grieving pet owner.

“When I found him, he had already frozen to death. I wasn’t able to bury him, since the ground was frozen, so I laid him out on the snow, facing the stars.” Tim sniffed dramatically. “Sparky always loved the stars.”

A glance at Peter showed a panicked face staring back at him. 

It was pretty clear he hadn’t bought it.

This wouldn’t end well.

“Okay then.”

Peter glanced at the door behind Tim.

“Did you say something about dry clothes?”

Tim gratefully seized the topic.

“YEAH, I mean, yeah, I’ll go grab them for you, wait right here.

And with that, Tim left to go find the warmest clothes he owned.

~~~

Jason counted to a minute after he could no longer here Tim’s footsteps, and then he began snatching up his clothes to get dressed.

No, ABSOLUTELY, not! I am getting out of here RIGHT NOW! What the FUCK?!? What the ever-loving FUCK!?!?!!?

He jumped up, causing a wave of vertigo to course through him, and attempted to pull up the jeans that the other boy had taken off. Doing an awkward hopping dance, trying to yank them up.

Loosing his balance Jason crashed to the floor, and froze, listening anxiously for the sound of footsteps.

Satisfied that he hadn’t been heard, he tossed his jeans to the side in frustration, and reached for his shirt.

A few minutes later he was dressed, in both his, and the other kids clothes, that he’d left behind.

Slipping into wet snow gear wasn’t the most comfortable experience, but Jason couldn’t care less.

If he was lucky enough to get out of this alive, he’d leave with some warmer clothing at least.

Taking a moment to listen again, he determined that Tim was still probably looking for clothes.

After cracking the door to peer into the hallway revealed no guards, he gently closed it again, and made his way to the window. Twisting the latch, he was able to shove it open, only for a cold blow of air to hit his face, making him cough.

Not waiting for another second, Jason stepped out into the snow, staying close to the window, soggy sneakers doing nothing in means of protection from the elements. 

Jason looked around, scanning for guards, or security cameras. 

He honestly half expected to see the corpse of the kid’s supposed dog, but the snow was clear.

Jason thought he had been lying, and turns out, he had been correct. 

A shiver ran through him as an icy wind blew across the frozen yard.

He needed to move.

Refusing to look back at the haven of warmth he was leaving, Jason began to walk.

~~~

Fifteen minutes later, Tim came down carrying long johns, and his fleece pajamas. He had also managed to find a space heater, so he could hook that up in the room as well.

Reaching the door of the guestroom, Tim gave a knock on the door, and upon hearing no answer, opened it.

The room was colder than it had been fifteen minutes ago. Which could probably be attributed to the wide open window.

More importantly, the majority of both Tim’s and Peter’s clothes were gone. The only thing remaining, being the pair of jeans he’d pulled off of him. 

Along with the clothes, Peter was missing as well.

It did not take a genius to figure out where he’d gone.

“Dammit!” Tim swore, as he dropped his load, and rushed to the mudroom to grab his boots.

It was freezing out, and Tim had not dragged Peter across half of Gotham, just to have him die now.

Forgoing a coat, since Peter had taken his, Tim yanked open the door, and quickly (well as quickly as you can go when the snow reaches to your knees) made his way to the side of the house the guestroom window faced.

When he reached it, he was greeted with a trail of footprints leading towards the woods.

Using the foot holes the other boy had left behind, for easier movement, Tim began to follow.

Peter could not have gotten far.

And sure enough about 100 yards away from the house, just past the treeline, Tim could see a figure sprawled in the snow.

He jogged the last few yards to the figure, and sure enough, it was Peter.

“Peter!”

No response.

Tim squatted beside the other boy, and tried to tug him up.

Peter was shaking, and when Tim peered at his eyes, they were closed again.

“Peter!”

Peter’s eyes opened slightly, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t seem to really be awake.

There was no way, Tim was gonna be able to carry Peter back to the house. His arms and back valiantly protested at even lifting him up.

Tim worried his lip for a few moments, racking his brains for what to do, until he remembered that rescuers sometimes use sleds to carry injured people through the snow.

He dragged Peter over to a tree.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go get a sled. Hold on”

Tim turned back to the house, and made his way to the front, where the entrance of the garage was located.

As Tim glanced back at the boy he had left propped against a tree, he, not for the first time, wondered to himself.

What have I gotten myself into?


	3. Jason Realizes What We All Already Knew, and Gets Hired as a Guard Dog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Implied/Reference Drug Use/Overdose (It's Catherine Todd)
> 
> For the last time, thanks to my beta Just_Another_Angsty_Geek.

Jason was warm. 

He was someplace warm. 

And soft.

Jason liked being someplace warm and soft.

It had been so long since…..since…..

What had he been thinking about?

He couldn’t remember.

It probably hadn’t been important.

Thinking was hard. Jason wanted to stop.

Just, Just for a little while….

~~~

Jason slowly felt himself regain consciousness.

He was so tired, even though it felt like he had slept a lifetime away.

Someone was talking, but their words were indistinguishable.

Jason felt himself drift off again.

He felt someone shake his shoulder.

Jason tried to bury himself in the soft squishy thing under his head, but the voice had decided it wanted to be mean, and was dragging the squishy thing out from under him.

Jason let out a whine and tried to grab a hold of the squishy, but his fingers were clumsy and stiff. 

The voice successfully stole the soft squishy and Jason curled up with his head in his arms, he felt burning behind his eyelids, and he realized, embarrassingly, that he was tearing up.

Despite his efforts, he felt a whimper escape his lips.

Jason could here a shushing sound, and something was patting his head.

He leaned into it slightly, humming happily, until it stopped.

Before Jason could protest, he felt himself being dragged upward, into a sitting position, and being leaned against the squishy.

He burrowed into it sighing contentedly, but he was being shaken again.

Jason finally opened his eyes.

He was covered in blankets, and a quick examination proved that the squishy had been a pillow, which was now propped up by two other pillows.

His shoulder was shaken again and Jason looked up at the thing causing the heavy weight on his legs.

It was a boy, holding a bowl of something.

After seeing he had gotten Jason’s attention, he spooned liquid out of the bowl, and placed it against Jason’s lips.

Without thinking Jason opened his mouth and warmth filled it, making him cough.

The boy rubbed Jason’s back and wiped Jason’s face with a paper towel, as Jason forced himself to swallow the warm liquid, which, after a few spoonfuls, he was successfully able to identify as soup.

Jason continued to accept the soup periodically, until the scrape of metal on ceramic snapped him out of his daze.

After accepting the last spoonful, the boy set the bowl aside, and grabbed a cup with a straw, which, without prompting, Jason sipped.

Once he was satisfied, the boy put that off to the side too, and took hold of one of Jason’s hands cradling it gently in his own.

Jason was surprised to discover his hand was wrapped in gauze, with cotton balls taped between each finger. 

The boy grabbed what looked like a phone, and seemed to study it for a moment; turning back to what he was holding, he began to unwrap the gauze, removing the cotton balls. The boy was talking quietly, but Jason couldn’t decipher what he was saying.

Leaning back into the squish- pillow, he felt his eyes begin to droop.

Jason let the murmuring of the other boy, as he re-wrapped his hands, soothe him into slumber.

~~~

“Peter? You awake?”

Jason groaned an affirmative, and sat up, having to lay back down, when a wave of vertigo, coursed through his head. 

Jason squinted his eyes, the faint yellow light causing his headache to go from a mild ache, to a stabbing pain. He let out another groan.

“Are you okay? Do you need water? Or-or Tylenol?”

There was a scrambling above him and a hand was shoved in his face. Two white pills rested in an open palm. Jason stared at them.

The boy brought them closer to Jason, and his self preservation skills kicked in. He leaned back eyes wide, and clamped his mouth shut tight.

The boy- His name’s Tim- How do I know that? Brought his hand back a little, looking unsure.

“Do you, do you not want them? You looked like you were in pain, do you want to know what it is?”

Tim snatched a bottle from the side table, and turned the label for Jason to see.

“See, it’s just Tylenol, I promise.” He brought the pills closer again.

“You’re not allergic are you?”

Jason couldn’t take his eyes off the pills. The small little capsules.   
“It’ll make you feel better.”

His Mom had thought the same thing though, but she hadn’t gotten better.

Jason didn’t want to think about his Mom right now, but he felt too drained to fight off the memories.

His eyes burned, and he felt a lump growing in his throat, making it harder to breathe. He dug his nails into his skin, but the pain wasn’t enough to ground him. He felt wetness beginning to trail down his cheeks and-

...and someone was shaking him.

“PETER! PETER! IT’S OKAY!!! CA-CALM DOWN!! I’m SORRY, you don’t have to take anything- just calm down! PLEASE!”

Slowly Jason raised his wet gaze to meet Tim’s panicked expression. Tim seemed to relax a little when Jason met his eyes.

“I’m, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed. I should have-” Tim paused “I…., I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I should do.”

Tim’s sad, tired eyes gazed into Jason’s, and Jason was at a loss.

“I just wanted to help you, because you were so cold, and, you were sick; I couldn’t just leave you!”

Tim swallowed, hunching his shoulders in slightly, and hugging his chest.

“I couldn’t leave you, but, I’m not helping you am I?”

Jason couldn’t speak, his tongue had once again been reduced to a lump of mashed potatoes. Tim seemed to take that as his answer.

Tim’s face broke and he stood up.

“I’ll, uh, you can, leave. I’m sorry, I really was just trying to help, I swear! Just, let me get you warmer clothes.

Tim left the room, leaving Jason with a mix of emotions he couldn’t even begin to sort through.

Tim returned with his coat and a bundle of other winter clothes, setting them down on the bed. Reaching down, Tim placed another pile, of what Jason recognized as his clothes next the coat. 

“I washed them.” Tim said, noticing Jason’s gaze.

“Can, you, um, stand up?”

Slowly Jason pushed off the mountain of blankets, exposing himself to the cold air, and shakily got to his feet.

Tim handed his coat to Jason, and, at Jason’s questioning look, supplied “Oh, don’t worry, I can tell Mrs. Mac I lost it. I have extra of the other stuff, but I can get a new coat.”

Jason hesitantly took the offered articles one at a time, putting them on over the pajamas he had been dressed in at some point.

Picking up the remaining clothes, Jason followed Tim down the hallway, keeping an eye and ear out for anyone else, but the house was silent and still.

Reaching the front door, Tim pulled a pair of old hiking boots out of the closet and set them in front of Jason.

“They might be a little big, they’re my Dad’s, but he’s never here so he probably won’t notice.

Jason stepped into the boots, while Tim unlocked the door and opened it.

“Do you need me to call a cab?”

Jason shook his head no.

He stepped outside, his old clothes under his arm, shivering at the cold breeze that blew into his face.

The snow from earlier had left the world blanketed in white; it was kinda beautiful, at least when you weren’t stuck in it.

Tim was still standing in the doorway, looking at him.

They stared at each other for a moment, till Jason broke eye contact first, stepping down the steps, his new boots sinking into the snow.

Jason still hadn’t heard the click of the door after his first few trudges through the snow, and he found himself peering over his shoulder curiously.

The kid hadn’t moved, was just standing in short sleeves and sweatpants in his doorway, probably freezing at this point from the cold air he was letting into his house.

Jason’s gaze seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he’d been in, and Tim made to shut the door, pausing before he could shut it fully to address Jason once more.

“Peter?”

Jason made eye contact with Tim, indicating he continue after he’d been quiet a little to long.

Tim fidgeted.

“If you.., ever need someplace to stay, you can uh, stay with me. I just, wanted to let you know.”

And with that, Tim shut the door.

Jason stood frozen, before starting his slow journey again.

He soon reached the road and began the long trek back to the Narrows.

Walking, being active, just moving, it had always helped Jason think, helped him to sort through his problems.

Okay, so the kid probably hadn’t been a human trafficker. He wouldn’t have just let Jason go if he had been. The kid was just weird.

He had just been being kind.

And incredibly stupid!

What kind of parents let there pipsqueak of a nine year old wander Crime Alley at three in the God damn morning?

His Mom hadn’t even liked him wandering around the Narrows at night, and he’d lived there!

Jason probably could have bashed the kid’s head in with a rock, and gotten away with it.

Jason felt frustration and anger bubble inside of him.

The whole time he was there, he had not seen one other person. Sure, he’d been out for most of it, but you’d think he’d have at least found evidence of another’s presence in that house; but it had been silent.

Empty.

Tim had brought a complete stranger into his house, with no one to protect him if Jason had turned out to be a creep.

It didn’t even look like the kid had a damn guard dog.

Speaking of dogs, what was the real reason Tim had been there to find him?

Was this the first time he had gone to Crime Alley by himself?

Jason shuddered at the thought of Tim getting snatched and trafficked. His little body broken, with bruised lips and cloudy eyes, cold to the touch, like that girl Jason had come across, sprawled in an alley, dead.

Jason desperately shook the image from his head.

The irony was not lost on Jason; of him worrying about the kid he had thought helped traffic him, getting trafficked.

Not like you could blame Jason though.

He hadn’t even thanked the kid for saving his life. For taking care of him. For not looking the other way like most of the other rich assholes did, when they were forced to witness the harsh reality of some people’s lives.

Thank him for not assuming the worst of Jason, even though bringing him to his house was a little too trusting.

The cold air nipped at Jason’s exposed cheeks, making him cough pitifully, but the coat Tim had given him was warm and the cold felt more like a slight chill to Jason’s body, not the freezing daggers it had previously been.

Jason owed Tim his life, and here he was, walking away with his clothes, when in his gut, Jason knew Tim was going to do something stupid again, with no one to stop him, and possibly, no one to help him if something went wrong.

“If you.., ever need someplace to stay, you can uh, stay with me. I just, wanted to let you know.”

Ah fuck it!

~~~

Tim was cleaning up the guestroom Peter had used when he heard a knock on his door.

Dropping what he was doing, he rushed to the foyer and peered out the peephole.

It was Peter!

Tim unlocked the door and opened it to let him in.

“Peter! Is something wrong? Did you change your mind about a cab? I can call one-” Tim started to make his way to the nearest phone, but Peter stopped him.

“No, I’m fine! I just…” Peter trailed off looking nervous.

“Yes?” Tim replied, confused. What was wrong?

“I wanted to say thank you! Thank you for taking care of me, and letting me crash here…” A blush dusted Peter’s face as he trailed off, staring at his hands.

“Oh.” Tim blushed too. “You’re welcome. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Either way, I, uh, appreciate it.” Peter said quietly.

“I’m glad.” An awkward silence stretched between them.

“So, uh, do you need anythi-”

“AreyougonnagobacktoCrimeAlley?!”

Tim could only stare blankly at Peter, who was gazing at him earnestly.

“What?”

“Are you,” Jason took a deep breath. “Are you going to visit Crime Alley by yourself again?”

Tim froze. He didn’t know why Peter was asking him.

Maybe he wants me to visit him?

“I, uh, yeah, sure, why?”

Peter’s eyes turned sharp.

“I don’t want you to do that Tim, it’s not safe!”

Tim felt himself growing defensive. “I can take care of myself!”

“You’re, like nine, Kid.”

“You’re only a few years older than me!”

“That’s different!”

“How?” Tim argued stubbornly. Peter had no authority to tell him what he can and can’t do.

“Just-” Peter let out a frustrated growl, Tim smiled smugly, he was wining.

“I live there okay? I know how to keep out of trouble.”

Tim’s eyes flickered down to Peter’s still bandaged hands, hidden by his mittens, and Peter scowled. 

“Mhm.”

Peter gave him a dirty look, before he sighed and began taking off his mittens.

Tim gave him a curious look, earning a sly grin in return. 

“What are you doing?”

“You obviously can’t be trusted to not do stupid shit when you’re by yourself, so I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so I can make SURE you don’t do stupid shit.”

Tim felt his mouth fall open.

“You can’t do th-”

“Oh yes I can!” Peter was shucking off his coat now, still with that same grin tugging at his lips. “I seem to recall a little birdie informing me, that if I ever needed someplace to stay, I was welcome here; and guess what kid? I’m currently homeless, and I don’t fancy spending winter outside.”

Peter turned to him, now void of his winter gear, hands on hips.

“You gonna throw me back out into the cold Timmy?”

Tim felt hot anger boil inside of him at Peter, for using his words against him; but beneath that, a small bubble of happiness swelled inside him, at the knowledge that he wasn’t going to be alone while he figured out how to circumvent his house arrest.

And he’d figure it out. Tim was nothing if not resourceful.

“So, what, you want to be my bodyguard?” Tim squinted at Peter, giving him an obvious once-over. “You’re kinda short.”

Peter scowled at that.

“Pot meet kettle, Kid.”

The his expression morphed back into a grin. A twinkle of humor flashed in his eyes.

“Besides, I don’t have to be a bodyguard to protect ya! I heard you recently lost your dog, you can think of me as your new, and improved, guard dog!”

Tim had to cover his mouth to hold in a snort at that.

“Peter the guard dog? That’s what your going with?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably, and flashed a sheepish smile in Tim’s direction.

“It’d be Jason the guard dog, actually.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did ya'll really think I was gonna split the baby birds up? Come on, ya know me better than that. ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
